


A King Who Placed Mirrors in His Palace

by SpaghettiCanActivist



Series: A King Who Placed Mirrors in His Palace [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Broken Bones, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 02:33:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15899124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaghettiCanActivist/pseuds/SpaghettiCanActivist
Summary: Tag to "Fighter Flight". Garrizeb Orrelios was hotheaded, his teacher Tottlenga Mukrak had often reprimanded him over it, but this was different, and if Ezra didn't stop shoving the fact that he'd saved his life in Zeb's face, damn to everything Mukrak had taught, he was going to beat the annoying brat to a pulp.





	A King Who Placed Mirrors in His Palace

Zeb was settled on his bunk, dozing, thinking. He missed quiet, he missed a very certain type of quiet that is. It was the kind where he could lay back under mawmaw trees and smell the sweet earthy odour of dirt and green and everything he'd come to think of as Lasan. Albeit the quiet had often been attained during his shirking of training as a youth, but it was a habit which had followed him into adulthood and into his career as a High Honor Guardsman of Lasan.

Now, laying across a square bunk, the peculiar chrome smell of the Ghost wafting unpleasantly to his oversensitive nose and the rough blankets under him, Zeb missed his home more than ever. And, as the door opened and someone stepped through, Zeb added that the unpleasant living addition to the room decor wasn't helping much either.

"Hey," said-living-addition-to-the-room-decor chirped, chomping on an igatli and looking all too young and annoying.

Zeb groaned and rolled to his side, whatever peace he'd found in reminiscing quickly lost. Ezra did not climb up into his own bunk though, instead standing in the center of the room.

"Are ya just gonna stand there all day?" Zeb growled out.

"Someone's grumpy," Ezra muttered.

Zeb looked up in time to see the hurt look on the boy's face which quickly flashed away. The teeth baring and deadly glare lost some of their pep when Zeb took in the teenager before him. He wasn't a particularly observant individual, but he could see the way Ezra was shifting on his feet, one hand hugging his middle while the crumbling igatli was sitting ignored in his other hand. The boy appeared nervous, an attribute Zeb only ever credited him with when the boy was running along rooftops being shot at by Imperial soldiers.

"What?" Zeb asked, low and suspicious.

Ezra's eyes narrowed, flashing with indignation and anger.

"Do you always have to act like such a wastoid? Jeez, I was just trying to say something!" Ezra bit out.

Zeb raised a brow but relented. If he was frank with himself the recent outing to the market place had been more than exciting, it had been exhausting. Hera had sent them out with Ezra under his protection and he had nearly failed on that part. An oath of protection, implicit though it may have been, wasn't something he took lightly. Maybe he'd forgotten much of the Boosahn Keeraw, but there were things he'd sworn, promises he'd made, that would only be broken through death or the most severe of circumstances.

"Alright, spit it out then," it wasn't exactly friendly but coming from Zeb it was like handing out an open invitation.

Ezra looked disbelieving for a moment then opened his mouth and shut it with a soft click of his teeth. A strange sort of incertitude settled on the boy and he appeared nearly timid. Zeb was a little put off, something about all of it was weird. As far as he was concerned the little brat wasn't afraid of anything when at the least he should be terrified of Zeb.

Ezra mumbled something indiscernible.

"If you're gonna waste my time at least waste it with actually saying something I can understand."

That look of hurt once more flashed through Ezra's eyes and Zeb had to wonder why that made him feel just a bit guilty. The guilt was short lived as Ezra got angry.

"I was just saying 'sorry'! Alright! Jeez!" Ezra turned on his heel and stormed out.

Zeb was left behind feeling dumbfounded. Once the surprise passed he just felt annoyed. Damned kid made everything complicated and weird. Still, Zeb had to wonder what the apology was about. Laying back down on his bed he let his mind drift, the small incident tethering to the back of his thoughts.

XXX

"I'm soooo bored!" Ezra moaned.

Sabine cocked an eye at the boy from where she was cleaning her gun in the common area. Ezra was stretched out on a chair like a limp noodle, staring at the ceiling.

"I can get Chopper to remedy that for you," Sabine offered.

Ezra's head popped up and he sent a look that said 'no you wouldn't'. Sabine merely responded by calling out Chopper's name. Ezra sprung to his feet and turned to escape from the room just to run straight into Kanan.

"Where are you going?"

Ezra glanced up at Kanan before peering around the man, eyes searching for Chopper.

"He's bored," Sabine elaborated as Ezra didn't respond.

"Good," Kanan said, clapping a hand on Ezra's shoulder and steering him back towards the table, "because Hera's got a mission for us."

Both Sabine and Ezra perked up at the word 'mission'.

"Really, what for?" Ezra queried, "are we stealing Imperial supplies? Planting a bomb? Infiltrating an Imperial facility?"

Kanan laughed, "how about you let Hera brief us first, she's the one with the intel."

Ezra pouted, arms folding and slumping back into the chair he'd so recently vacated. Kanan sat down next to him and slung an arm around his chair's backing. A few moments later Hera stepped in from the cockpit, a small turn of the lip that indicated a smile playing about her face as she took in the crew. A whir sounded down the hallway, a shouted 'karabast' and then the angry spitting of Chopper. The two emerged, Zeb clutching his lower leg and glowering fiercely at the bot while Chopper moved primly over to a spot in the corner and shook his rotor.

"Damn stupid bot," Zeb muttered angrily before leaning up against the door frame.

"Now that everyone is here, I'll get started," Hera said, "I got some intel that says there's a group of refugees hiding in the caves on the Lagnar plain of Wobani. Apparently they were able to get them out of the labor camps but not off planet. They need transport to somewhere safe, Alderaan hopefully."

"Cool, where's that?" Ezra asked.

"Wobani is about 35000 parsecs, Alderaan, well, that's a little farther. We won't be taking them all the way, just getting them off planet and into the hands of people who can help them more than us."

"We gonna be cracking many heads?" Zeb asked, looking excited.

"No," Hera shook her head, "Wobani isn't exactly hospitable so the Imperials haven't pursued the escapees, I'm sure they expect most are dead anyways. It'll be an easy in and out."

Zeb's face became crestfallen, Ezra sunk back into his chair, boredom resurrected on his face, even Sabine looked a little disappointed as she put her gun away.

"Buckle in, it's a long flight," Hera said before stepping out.

Ezra let out another dramatic sigh. Sabine narrowed her eyes and then made eye contact with Chopper.

"Cheer up kid," Kanan said, standing up and stretching, "we'll be there before you know it."

Ezra groaned in response. There was the sound of a zap and a scream from Ezra followed by both Sabine's and Zeb's snickers.

XXX

Wobani made a woeful sight, and Ezra's usually wondering eyes, ever searching the horizon of space, were repelled by the turgid grey river surrounded by the black striated cliffs and then the endless plains of what Sabine had described as horrible black dust and a painter's nightmare. Ezra didn't know much about being a painter, but the place appeared nightmarish even to him.

The Ghost had landed on the lip of the cliff and the crew was gathering at the opened docking bay. Hera stood at the front, the intel was hers and as such she was leading the party. Ezra sniffed before crinkling his nose.

"Jeez Zeb, that's disgusting," he complained.

"Speak for yourself, kid!" Zeb snarled back.

"That'll be the large quantities of sulfur in the loose soil," Kanan helpfully supplied.

"It smells awful," Sabine said, covering her face as she walked into the docking bay.

"Smell aside, we have a group of refugees to get to," Hera said, signalling that their briefing was about to begin.

"There's a large system of caves within the cliff side, there's an easy path down from where we've landed. All of the caves are interconnected and our refugees should be within the first or second cavern we enter. This shouldn't take long and shouldn't be dangerous, but just in case, everyone have your comms ready."

Everyone nodded and followed Hera out of the ship. The docking entrance lifted and Chopper gave a little wave from inside the ship as it closed.

They made their way towards the edge of the cliff. There didn't seem to be anything and Hera mumbled something, moving about the ledge. Ezra took that time to peer over the edge. The drop was a long one, leading to the disgusting river below. Between the smell and the height, Ezra felt his stomach roll and his head start to spin. A hand on his arm pulled him back.

"Careful," Kanan intoned, glancing warily down at the river.

Ezra gulped hard, he'd almost leaned over far enough to fall.

"There we go," Hera called with some relief.

She pointed to a small crevice in the cliff which allowed for a single person to began the descent. She started down first followed by Sabine, then Ezra and Zeb, with Kanan holding up the rear. As they went lower, Ezra was able to see a ledge jutting out from the side of the cliff, a very small one barely bigger than the floor of his room. The stairs brought them to it and when they got to it, Ezra was able to see a hole in the cliff, eight feet high and oval shaped; just large enough for a person to comfortably step through.

They entered and surprisingly enough the hole kept its width and breadth only a couple meters before widening into a large and spacious cavern which had a ceiling of about three and a half meters and was as wide as an Imperial transport bay. There was one other passage besides the one they had come through. Stepping in, they followed Hera into the next passage and into another cavern that was a bit smaller than the last.

Hera stopped, frowned, and looked about. Ezra stared about with wide eyes, noting the multiple passages but not quite understanding the significance of them.

"Where are the refugees?" Kanan asked as he came into the cavern.

Hera didn't reply, hands on hips and face marred with a concerned frown.

"Well what do we do now?" Sabine asked, staring about anxiously.

There was something sinister and morbid about the caves, a tenebrous miasma thickening the air and leaving an unpleasant tension behind.

"I don't know," Hera replied, "they should be here."

Kanan meanwhile was walking about.

"Look," he called, "someone's been here."

He held up a cast off doll made of what appeared to be various pieces of whatever happened to be lying around.

"Why aren't they here now?" Hera speculated, frown deepening.

"Maybe they felt safer deeper in the caves?" Ezra suggested.

"Safer from what?"

No one replied to Sabine's question and it hung in the air to spur their imaginations to darker depths.

"Fear of the Imperials would make anyone want to retreat farther," Hera said, a determined look slipping across her face as she folded her arms.

She'd made her mind up.

"We're going to split up, alright, each of us will go down a passage, see if it leads to another cavern and then report back here, Ezra you go with Zeb."

Neither of the two, who usually argued about anything being done together, made a protest. Everyone nodded.

"Alright, keep your comms on," Kanan said.

With a wave, they all set out on different paths.

XXX

Zeb lead the way down their tunnel, Ezra close behind. It was unusually quiet, the oppressive atmosphere of the caves pressing in on them. Zeb, who wasn't exactly fond of listening to the brat behind him, preferred at least some sound. So he struck up a conversation.

"So, whassit you were saying sorry for?" Zeb asked, keeping his tone relatively neutral.

"What?" Ezra asked, blinking up dazedly at the Lasat's back.

"You said sorry, why?" Zeb asked bluntly.

Ezra didn't reply at first and Zeb glanced over his shoulder. Ezra's face was twisted in a frown. This didn't seem like a conversation the kid wanted to have here, at least not right this moment.

"I-it was just," Ezra started falteringly, "I just wanted to say sorry about the whole thing."

When Ezra didn't explain Zeb probed further.

"What whole thing?"

"The life thing," Ezra said reluctantly.

"No offense kid, but you're making less sense than usual. And usually you talk with as much brains as bantha fodder," Zeb said with a gruff chuckle.

"Hey!" Ezra retorted.

They came to a part of the tunnel which widened a bit, allowing Zeb to stand up completely with some space to spare.

"I just mean, I'm sorry about the whole me holding saving your life over your head, I'm sorry and now I've said it can we just not talk about it!"

Zeb was puzzled by the apology. He did appreciate it, but it was a little surprising.

"Look, if you're trying to get out of the fact that I saved your life kid, then you're doing it the wrong way," Zeb said.

"That's not what-" Ezra stopped in his tracks and glared at Zeb, "you know what?!"

Zeb turned around, irked by the tone of voice Ezra was using.

"I'm not sorry then! Not sorry at all, you big stupid fur face!" Ezra shouted, pushing past Zeb and making his way forward.

"Hey! Look kid-" Zeb started angrily, he didn't get far, an insidious rumbling causing the floor to shake.

Zeb's eyes widened and he saw the bright blue eyes of Ezra fill with fear before the loud sound of rock giving way caused his senses to give up the ghost.

When Zeb was able to blink the dust out of his eyes he was happy to find that though covered in dust and currently sitting on his butt, nothing was injured. His own welfare out of the way, Zeb realized that he couldn't see Ezra. He jumped to his feet. The passage they'd been traveling down was shut off by rocks on one side, the side Ezra had been standing on and the side that lead further into the caves.

"Ezra?" Zeb called out.

When there was no immediate answer he feared the worst. Then a small cry of pain sounded out, muffled and appearing like it was coming from the other side of the rock.

"Kid?" Zeb called out, coughing as he stood up.

"Z-Zeb?" The voice was weak and confused.

Zeb stared at the rocks and realized that Ezra must be on the other side, or at least not completely buried.

"Where are you?" Zeb called, moving gingerly toward the rocks.

"I don't know, there are rocks and my head hurts," Ezra paused, "where is everybody?"

"Alright, just, stay there, I'll get you out."

Zeb began carefully moving rocks, trying to make sure that his movements didn't cause anymore to fall or shift onto him or Ezra. After a few minutes, Ezra called out.

"Zeb?"

"Yeah," Zeb grunted, continuing his fast paced excavation.

"I'm sorry."

Zeb halted for a second, struck by the apology and the sincerity with which it was spoken.

"I was just scared, because, well, you're the only person on the ship who doesn't want me there. I just wanted to make sure."

Ezra's muffled voice was being much too honest and Zeb feared that a concussion was the cause. The hesitant sentence however brought the guilt back from earlier. He hadn't exactly been friendly since Ezra had come aboard, not that he was thrilled to have a roommate. Also, back on the ship during the Wookie mission, he'd left the boy. A nice, intentional push into the arms of the enemy wasn't exactly the best way of proving you would keep someone safe. No doubt Ezra's time on the street had taught him to seize whatever power he could and to wield, otherwise someone else would.

"I'm sorry too, kid," Zeb replied.

He kept digging. Finally, most of it had been cleared away so he could see Ezra. The boy was pinned to the ground by a large rock on his arm, there was also a nasty gash that started at the peak of his hairline and probably extended back through Ezra's mat of blue hair. Zeb bounded over and carefully pulled the rock up and off of Ezra's limb.

Ezra's eyes, which had been closed, opened.

"Zeb?" He looked puzzled, one eye dilated far more than the other.

Zeb let out a soft 'karabast' and knelt down.

"Let me see that limb," Zeb said, gently brushing over the arm.

Ezra flinched, ineffectually trying to pull it away. It looked displaced from the shoulder socket and possibly broken along the humerus. All of this was far beyond the Lasat's expertise.

"Can you walk?" Zeb asked.

Ezra replied by pathetically attempting to roll to the side to sit up. He succeeded only in turning several shades paler.

"Alright then, guess I'll have to carry ya," Zeb said.

Careful of the arm and head, Zeb picked Ezra up. The boy was light and unlike many of the times Zeb had picked him up, not struggling to escape. He began walking back down the passage, hoping that Hera and the rest had found the refugees. The walk back was taking longer as Zeb tried to keep from jostling the boy. It was quiet a minute.

"You know, I was a member of the Honor Guard on Lasan, we were the planet's best warriors," Zeb said conversationally.

Ezra didn't reply, but his bright blue eyes turned to the Lasat and seemed to be concentrating on something other than the pain.

"We follow a strict code, the Boosahn Keeraw," Zeb glanced down and saw that Ezra was still paying attention.

"Part of it, when you save someone's life, it represents a sacred rite of warriorhood. When you save a fellow warrior's life you become their brother, someone you would die for and who would die for you. And when they save your life that bond is set in stone."

Zeb sent Ezra a meaningful look and the boy, despite being obviously concussed, had a solemn look on his face.

"So, you saved my life, I saved yours. So I guess I'm just gonna have to put up with your stinking moof-milker face."

Ezra blinked and Zeb, fearing that the dangerous waters of emotional sharing had been tread long enough, looked away.

It was quiet a moment and they emerged into the cavern they'd split up from. Everyone was there along with a group of bedraggled refugees. Kanan let out a cry and came hurrying over with Hera not far behind. A list of questions was pummeled at Zeb who, in his ever bonhomous state, growled out that he'd explain it once they got aboard the stupid ship and were off the blasted planet, and also, that is was very much not his fault.

They acquiesced and the group made their way back up. The whole time Zeb carried Ezra, careful and graceful in his movements. When they arrived at the ship, just before Zeb handed Ezra off to Kanan in the small space they deigned to call the medbay, Ezra whispered out a small thanks.

Zeb rubbed the back of his head, taking the thanks for what it was. His lips twitched up awkwardly and Ezra smiled back, apology accepted and apology given.

"No problem, kid," Zeb muttered in response, ignoring the curious look Kanan shot his way.


End file.
